I had two versions of my future in front of me. And to be honest… I didn’t like the one that didn’t include Harley.
CHAPTER 92
maverick
Iobsessed. I couldn’t help it. I obsessed about Harley. About the brownie in a mug. About the last eighteen years. Talking to Roxy had dragged up things I’d spent a lifetime shoving into the back corners of my mind—memories I’d packed away so neatly that I’d almost convinced myself they didn’t matter anymore.
Turns out… they mattered a lot.
And once that door cracked open, everything else followed. Eighteen years’ worth of memories, choices, missed changes. Every laugh, every fight, every moment that had built us up for the world to tear us apart.
Talking to Roxy had stirred all of it up again, and I couldn’t shut it off. I kept circling the same damn question like Duke chasing his own tail.
What if?
What if we hadn’t blown up the way we did?
What if I’d spoken up sooner?
What if he had?
What if we’d healed sooner?
What if we’d run away?
The what-ifs stacked up until they felt heavy in my chest, pressing against the life I’d spent years convincing myself was enough. And I kept obsessing until it was impossible to sit with it. One minute, I was circling a never-ending drain as I sat in my office, and the next, I was grabbing my keys without fully thinking it through.
I told myself I was just going for a drive—just a simple drive—but that was a lie. My truck roared to life, and the headlights cut through the dark as I pulled onto the road. The lake glimmered off to the side, but I barely noticed it. My grip tightened on the steering wheel as mile after mile slipped past.
Every rational thought in my head told me to turn around.This was a terrible idea.It was late. He had a kid sleeping in that house. Showing up at his door in the middle of the night to unload eighteen years of unresolved feelings was exactly the kind of reckless bullshit I’d spent years trying to avoid.
And yet, I didn’t slow down. If anything, I pressed the gas a little harder.
The closer I got, the louder my pulse thudded in my ears. My mind kept trying to rehearse what I was going to say.Unfortunately, every version sounded worse than the last. By the time I turned down his drive, my chest was tight enough to make breathing difficult.
For a moment, I just sat there with the engine running, staring at the front of his house. A dim light flickered through one of the first-floor windows—probably the TV going. Was he watching a movie? Was I interrupting?
I could still leave. I could throw my truck in reverse, drive home, and find a different way to deal with this spiral. That’d be the smart thing to do.
But I didn’t do the smart thing.
Which was why I was banging on his door at eleven-thirty at night. The light flipped on, and the door flew open. Guilt flared up at the confused look on Harley’s face as the screen door swung open. I stepped back as he joined me.Yeah, I’d interrupted something.He wore a pair of gray sweatpants and a cream shirt with the sleeves a little long around his wrists. His hair was messy, and his eyes were tired behind his glasses.
“Maverick, what are you doing here?” he asked, his voice rough around the edges like I’d woken him up.Fuck.
“I should hate you,” I whispered, the words slipping out before I could stop them. It wasn’t exactly the opening line I’d planned, but it was the only thought my mind was capable of holding onto.
His brows furrowed together, and I kept going, trying to keep the momentum before I caved and ran away.
“I should hate you. After everything, I should. And honestly? You should hate me, too.” I huffed out a hard breath, my chest tightening further. “After everything that happened… we were awful together. And yet… I can’t. I can’t… I can’t hate you.”
I dragged a hand through my hair, walking the length of his porch once before turning back to him, the words tumbling out faster the longer I stood there.
“I can’t hate you. I tried—fuck, I really tried. Harley. I tried to hate you. I tried to move on. I tried to let go. I… I tried. And you know, for a while there, I told myself I had. I have a life, Harley. I have a good life. A happy life. I’m happy! I’m actually happy. Me! I’m happy.
“And… and… I’m happy, and then you just… you’re just there, standing in that stupid barn, and it’s like the universe is laughing at me because I’m happy! I told myself I was really fucking happy!” I exclaimed as I paced, desperate to do something with the chaotic energy surging through me. It didn’t help that Harley crossed his arms as he drew in a deep breath.This was a mess. I was making a mess. “But you’re here… you’re here, and everything is just… everything is a mess! A mess!
“And I like it! Ilikeit. I like all of it! I like talking to you. I like hanging out with you. I like your kid. I like how it makes me feel. And that’s a problem because we’ve already proven that we’re terrible at this.” I gestured wildly between us, my words coming out fast enough for me to trip over. “We’re not good together, Harley. We’re actually terrible together.
